


Memories Captured On Film

by afteriwake



Series: Where The Wild Ones Are [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), St Trinian's (2007 2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the funeral John has to stay overnight in his old home, and upon digging around in his room he finds home movies that had been made documenting various stages of his brother/sister relationship with Annabelle over the years. The two of them, along with Sherlock, decide to watch a few of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories Captured On Film

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aaronlisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaronlisa/gifts).



> Written for one of my favorite people for Christmas, the wonderful Aaronlisa. She wanted a prequel fic of a sort, depicting John and Annabelle when they were young, but I figure three glimpses into their past was better than just one, so this is what came out.

Sherlock and Annabelle were enjoying a cup of tea the morning after her former stepmother’s funeral when John came back to the flat. He had not come back like he had said he would, but the two of them were the people who knew John best in the world so they figured he had his reasons. Annabelle looked up and saw him carrying a box with a VCR sticking out of the top. “What’s that?” she asked.

He set the box on the table and watched as Sherlock peered inside it. “Harry got so pissed she started vomiting and then she passed out and I had to drag her up to her old room. She didn’t wake up until two hours ago so I was at the house with only bad telly. I decided to go to my room and poke around and I found these.” He reached inside the box and held up a video tape. “Apparently she didn’t go through my room ever because all those home movies I made were still at the top of my closet.”

Annabelle gave him a wide grin. “Really? Oh my God. We have to watch them.”

“That’s why I brought the VCR,” he said with an answering grin. “I’ll go set it up.” He picked the box back up and went out to the television.

Sherlock gave her a slightly confused look. “What home movies?” he asked.

“My father had no interest in recording any of my milestones,” she said. “I have no clue what my first word was, or when I took my first steps or any of that. When we moved in with John’s family John started videotaping different things that I did, and sometimes Harry would videotape the two of us. Those videos and the photos he took are the only chronicle of my very young years.” She took another sip of her tea. “We had thought his mother chucked them when he left home.”

“So I’ll get to see you as a child?” Sherlock asked.

Annabelle nodded. “And John as a teenager, if he has any of the videos Harry took.” She stood up. “Come on. Let’s help him get it all set up.”

Sherlock stood up as well and between the three of them they got the VCR set up by unplugging the DVD player. Sherlock went to sit down in his usual chair, and John and Annabelle sat down on the sofa near each other. Annabelle had a wide grin on her face as John held up the remote and pressed play. Nothing happened, and John frowned. “That should have worked,” he said.

“Did you check the batteries?” Sherlock suggested.

John gave him a mild glare, and then went up to the VCR. He hit the play button on the front and static filled the screen. John’s frown deepened but after a moment a young girl, no more than three years old, was seen running up to the camera wearing a princess costume. “John!” she said, a wide smile on her face.

“That’s me!” Annabelle said happily as John sat back down.

“Ready to go trick-or-treating?” John could be heard saying from behind the camera. He sounded quite young, as though he was still a child. He did not have the deeper voice he had now, at any rate.

“I’m a beautiful princess,” the younger Annabelle said, turning in her dress. “Princess Belle!”

“That’s why we got you the yellow dress,” he said with an amused tone. “Just like Belle in the Disney film.”

Annabelle saw Sherlock looked confused. “’Beauty and the Beast’ was a Disney movie I made John watch all the time,” she told him with a smile. “I wanted to be Belle for years.”

“Ah,” he said with a slight nod.

“A beautiful princess like you is going to get a lot of candy,” John could be heard saying off camera.

“Are you the Beast?” young Annabelle asked.

A derisive chuckle could be heard from the side. “Oh yeah. John’s a right beast, especially first thing in the morning.” It was clear that that was his mother speaking. And then the video went back to static.

“She did not seem to be a pleasant woman,” Sherlock said quietly.

“No, she really wasn’t,” John said. “Harry gets her worst qualities from her.” He went back to the VCR and popped the tape out, then rummaged in the box for another one. “This one says ‘first bike ride,’” he said with a frown.

“Maybe it’s when you taught me to ride a bike?” Annabelle asked.

“Maybe.” He popped that video in and pressed the play button. There wasn’t static immediately this time, and Annabelle looked much older, maybe seven. “You weren’t still living with us at the time,” he said.

“Yeah. Dad had moved us out a year prior, I think,” Annabelle said, pulling her legs up under her. “Looks like Harry’s got the camera this time,” she added with a smile since John’s back was to the TV.

John turned around. “God, I look young,” he said.

“I think this is right before you went to university,” she replied.

“There’s no sound,” Sherlock said after a moment.

“The microphone on the camcorder didn’t always work,” John said with a sigh. “I think this is one of those tapes.”

“You’re actually taking the training wheels off!” Annabelle said. “I thought you did that before you gave me the bike.”

“No. You insisted on having the training wheels, and then I took them off when you got laughed at for being a baby by some of the neighborhood kids.” He settled back in next to her. “See?”

John knelt next to the bike, tool in hand, as Annabelle straddled the bike. Whoever was filming moved closer, and Annabelle looked quite worried. John moved around to the other side and got the other training wheel off, and he put his hand under the seat. He was giving Annabelle words of encouragement because after a moment Annabelle smiled and sat on the seat, putting her feet on the pedals. She started to move the pedals and John ran behind the bike. As the two of them got smaller John let go and Annabelle immediately fell to the side after wobbling for a moment. John was off quickly, and whoever was filming moved over to them. Annabelle had a skinned elbow, and John was wiping away tears from her eyes.

“You two were fairly close from the start, weren’t you?” Sherlock asked, looking at them.

John nodded. “Harry and I have never really gotten along. At first I kind of resented Annabelle, but she was so kind and sweet. So unlike Harry. I couldn’t help but grow attached.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Annabelle said, looking at him with a smile.

“Well, it’s the truth.” Annabelle reached over and gave him a hug which he returned.

“You’re trying again,” Sherlock said.

The two of them broke apart and turned their attention back to the screen again. John put his hand under the seat again and then she was off, and a few yards down the road he let go. She wobbled slightly, and this time she stayed upright. She pedaled a few more yards and then stopped. She got off the bike, quickly laying it down, then ran back to John, who had his arms open wide. She ran up and hugged him and he lifted her off the ground, swinging her in a circle. “I actually remember all that,” Annabelle said fondly as the tape cut off again. “Most of it, anyway. I could have sworn the wheels were already off when you came over.”

“Well, now you have concrete proof they weren’t,” John said, beginning to stand up.

“Oh no. My turn now,” Annabelle said, getting up faster than him and making a dash to the box. She picked up the different videos, looking at the stickers with writing that had been put on each one, and smiled slowly as she picked one up. “This one,” she said, going to the VCR and ejecting the other tape before popping the new one in. She pressed play then went back to her seat. “This one you didn’t make.”

The video came on with a slightly darkened room, and after a moment you could see a brightly lit Christmas tree in the corner. It was small, though, and not particularly grand. “John, Santa came!” Annabelle could be heard saying from behind the camera.

John was asleep on the couch, and he awoke with a start. “What time is it?” he asked groggily.

“Four in the morning,” younger Annabelle said.

“This is from the Christmas where you ran away from home,” John said quietly as the audio continued in the background. “The first Christmas I had in my own flat.”

Annabelle nodded. “I knew you had played Santa. I mean, I didn’t believe in Santa at that point. Harry had done a good job of puncturing that particular belief when I was six. But I also knew you had stayed up all night to convince me he had been there.”

“How old were you at this point?”

Annabelle thought for a moment. “Ten, I think. I ran away a few times, remember? I think this was the second time.”

They turned their focus to the TV again. “If you don’t put down the camera you won’t get to open presents,” John was saying with a smile.

“Open yours first,” Annabelle said from off-camera. “I bought it especially for you.” 

“Using your father’s credit card?” he asked, slightly amused as he picked up a present.

“More like my stepmother’s booze fund,” Annabelle said. John snorted slightly as he began to unwrap the gift. It was a stethoscope. “For when you’re a doctor and you’re healing sick people.”

John looked genuinely touched, and he stood up. He set the camera down on a table, facing Annabelle. You couldn’t see much more than her waist, but you could see John get closer and lift her up. “Best present ever, Belle,” he said, and his voice was quite thick.

“It’s because you’re the best brother I’ve ever had,” Annabelle was saying, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear her. After a moment the two of them sat down on the floor and opened other presents, chatting as they did. Then the video went to static about twenty minutes later.

Sherlock looked at the two of them. “You are both very lucky,” he said quietly, leaning forward in his chair.

“I think you’re right,” John said, putting an arm around Annabelle’s shoulders and pulling her close. “You know I still have that stethoscope, Annabelle?”

“I didn’t know that,” she said with a smile. She turned to look at him. “I don’t have most of the stuff you gave me. I moved too many times to keep much of anything. I have the stuff you’ve given me since I graduated from St. Trinian’s, though.” She paused. “Except the doll. I kept the doll even when everyone told me I was too old for it. It’s in my office, on the bookshelf.”

“You hugged that doll all the time,” he said. “That was your very best friend from the moment I gave it to you. Maybe there’s a video of you with it,” John said, moving his arm and standing up again. Then he glanced at Sherlock. “We’re not boring you, are we?”

“Actually, it’s interesting seeing these glimpses of the two of you,” he said with a faint smile. “It’s one thing to hear stories, but it’s quite another to see them.”

“Well, if you get bored, let us know and we can watch something else,” Annabelle said.

“Somehow I do not see me getting bored today,” he said. Then he glanced back over at John. “How many more tapes do you have?”

He went over to the box. “At least twenty.”

“We may be here for a bit,” Sherlock replied, standing up. “I’ll make more tea.” He went to the table and got the teapot off of it before going into the kitchen.

John ejected the tape and put it to the side of the box before going back over to Annabelle. “I’m glad I have these,” he said quietly.

“I’m glad you do too,” she said with a smile. “These memories are some of the best ones.” She leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. “You really are the best brother I’ve had.”

“Glad to know that,” he said quietly, and the two of them relaxed in silence until Sherlock was done with the tea. All in all it was a well-spent day, John concluded as it wore on. It was nice to have concrete proof that he had been the best brother he could be.


End file.
